EARLY MODERN TRUMPETS

During the seventeenth century, instrumental repertoires that had previously been passed down through aural and improvised traditions began to be notated and published. One of the most important examples of this process can be found in Girolamo Fantini’s 1638 publication of the beautifully titled trumpet book, Method for learning to play the trumpet in a warlike way as well as musically: with the organ, with a mute, with the harpsichord, and every other instrument. The distinction that he makes here between “warlike way” and “musically” is crucial, since up until that point the trumpet had primarily been a signal instrument, used to transmit messages and directions and to mark the arrival of important people.

Trumpet sounds were associated with battle, with the hunt, and with civic and royal fanfare (and I mean that word quite literally). Trumpet valves had not yet been invented, so the instrument was able to play only the notes of the harmonic series, overblowing a fundamental pitch to produce certain intervals. Fantini himself explains this: look at the first two lines of the first page of music in his publication, where he shows the pitches obtained with a trumpet in C, labelling them with their pitch (above the stave) and their register (below the stave). In a wealthy court or well-appointed military unit, there would be a choir of trumpets, who would play the trumpet calls, each in their own register, therefore creating a set of chords.

In performance, a single notated melody could be readily converted into an ensemble piece for five-part trumpet choir. The scholar, Mario Bertoluzzi, paraphrasing Cesare Bendinelli (another early modern trumpet player, who wrote a manuscript treatise), provides a clear explanation:

Each of the five players enters one at a time, from lowest to highest. The first to begin is the Grosso player, who plays the rhythm of the entire piece on the tonic note. The next to enter was the Vulgano player, who, like the Grosso, plays the rhythm of the entire piece, but at the fifth, or Vulgano pitch level. The third player to enter is the Altebasso, who copies the rhythm and melodic shape of the Principale, though one harmonic lower. The fourth player to enter is the Principale, the only person in the ensemble to play the Sonata as written. The fifth and last to enter is the Clarino player, who improvised in the uppermost register of the trumpet spanning the eighth through the twelfth partials. (Bertoluzzi 2002, 322-3)

Bertoluzzi uses the same standard terms for the register of the instrument, grosso, vulgano, etc., that appear as the registers in Fantini’s print.

The second stave on Fantini’s same page shows that as the pitch increases, the intervals between the various notes decreases, and the trumpeter can approximate a major scale. It was in this register--called the “clarino” register--in which Fantini himself specialized. In traditional trumpet ensemble music, the clarino player would improvise and ornament over the basic call pattern; Fantini not only notates such elements (in the “how to play in a warlike way” section of his book), but also, in the second half of his book, exploits this particular register of the instrument to create a new way of playing “musically.”

A comparison of the military signals and the musical pieces is illustrative. In “La Marciata,” which comes from the “warlike” section of Fantini’s book, all of the notes fall within the third octave of the trumpet’s compass, where the notes facilitate an arpeggiation of the C chord, save a brief excursion in the penultimate phrase. The syllables underlaid underneath the notes are simultaneously a mnemonic aid for memorization and a means of articulation for tone and rhythm. “In the battle toccatas,” explains Fantini, “there are words that say da ton della, atta non tano, and attanallo, which mean ‘saddle up’ (buttasella, lit. throw yourself in the saddle), ‘to ride’ (cavalcare), and ‘to horse’ (a cavallo), and tin ta means ‘everyone’ (tutti); they are pronounced in this manner because, with the trumpet they are better preferred, and are rendered easier to articulate with the tongue, which is the true way to play.” The seemingly nonsense text of the “Marciata” thus takes on a very specific meaning: “everybody ride, to ride, to ride; everybody, everybody ride, to ride, to ride.” The aggregating structure of the call builds on the initial rhythmic (and minimally melodic) cell, repeating it with ornamental differences and rhythmic extensions, building into the higher register and culminating in a brief moment of virtuosic passagework in the penultimate phrase before cascading downward to a reprise of the opening motif.

In one of the more “musical” pieces, however, something very different is happening. Here is the score of Fantini’s first sonata for trumpet and organ, called “Colloreto”, and here is a recording. Comparing the Colloreto sonata with the “Marciata” discussed above, the relatively melic focus of the second piece is clear. Though the chosen pitches remain reliant on the harmonic series, this piece is primarily located in the fourth octave of the instrument—the clarino register—where stepwise motion, turns, and trills become possible. In addition, a melodic preponderance of F#s turns need into virtue, capitalizing on the precariously tonal 11th harmonic to permit modulation away from C major. Only once (in measure 9) do the organ and the trumpet interact in any significant way, with the bass and trumpet indulging in a brief moment of melodic imitation. The primary function of the bass is chordal support on C or G—as Fantini warns in his note to his readers: “many bass lines are not in [rhythmic] diminutions (non si sono diminuiti), because it is necessary to support such an instrument [the trumpet] with a great deal of harmony.” We should note that Fantini played with the celebrated organist Girolamo Frescobaldi in Rome on at least one occasion, and that the two worked side by side at the Medici court during the 1630s. It is possible that pieces like this were played by the two Girolamos together.

Importantly, too, the military aspects of trumpet playing led to a long tradition of training up enslaved Black boys in the instrument. We can see this in the now-familiar cover image we have been using for our classroom website; that image comes from Portugal. The practice was also noted in England and throughout German-speaking lands. Playing “militarily” always already invokes a potential battle and thus an “other” who is to be defeated, subdued, or brought into line. To produce these sounds from the body of the racially and visibly marked “Other” is thus to proclaim (and the choice of verb here is deliberate) that the battle has already been won. The Other has already been subdued, indeed his docile (though potentially ferocious) body has already bent to the task of enforcing the law of the sovereign, as heard in the ceremonial trumpet sound. Thus the race of the performer is anything but incidental. The persistent, sticky association of racialized bodies and military music inscribes a violence into and onto the body and the subjectivity of the body which gives voice—sounds the trumpet—to the direct will of the sovereign. As a subject that emits sound, the racialization of the Turkish or Moorish trumpeter is not merely visible but also audible. The racially marked trumpeter performs (quite literally) his enslavement—in the implicit violence of battle and his subjection to foreign power. Here, too, Fantini himself serves as a good example: in his role as Chief Trumpeter to the Medici Grand Dukes he is known to have trained up at least two enslaved boys.

In August 1633, Girolamo Fantini detto Trombetto was given five scudi [a unit of money] to purchase “a trumpet (tromba) for the Morino [lit. ‘little Black boy’] who is learning to play.”[1] The lessons must have gone reasonably well, for in September the “Moro who plays the trumpet” received three testoni in order to purchase a belt, and a few days later he was rewarded with a scudo. In July 1634, “the Moro trombetto” was paid a zecchino (equivalent to a scudo and three lire) for having “played in the chamber of His Highness [the Grand Duke].”[2] In August that same year he received another zecchino on the Grand Duke’s recommendation.[3] Also that August, “Bracone, Tromba, and Moro” were tipped one and a half scudi for having “all three sung together in harmony.”[4] Here “Tromba” or “Moro” might reference the Black trumpeter; there were, however, several Black retainers within the Grand Duke’s court at the time and we cannot assume this individual to be the trumpeter under consideration based on a racial moniker alone.

From 1635 until at least 1640, the Grand Duke paid to train two turchi into specifically musical pursuits, supporting their studies with an allowance of five scudi a month (the rate is comparable with other student allowances):[5] Solefar Turco (occasionally written Turcho) was trained to “play the Trombetta” and “Rosoan Turco” was taught to dance and to fence; in one instance Rosoan is described as studying dance “along with other skills (virtù).”[6] In November of 1635, a chitarra was purchased on Rosoan’s account, so evidently his musical education went somewhat beyond mere choreographic steps.[7] The association of swordplay and dance should not surprise: both draw on a shared repertoire of fancy footwork, physical dexterity, and rhythmic control. Both disciplines also foreground a spectacularity of the body in performance: a physicality that is to be gazed at and admired by the audience. Though Rosoan played neither trumpet nor drum, his training in fencing links him (and his visible “Turkishness”) tightly to the military. While Solefar’s allowance was paid (without exception) directly to Fantini, Rosoan’s went to a variety of different people (on one occasion only he took possession of the money himself), although most frequently it was paid to his presumed teacher: Jacopo (or Jacopino) dell’Armiolo, lit. “of the Armory.” Both a fencer and a choreographer, Jacopo’s soprannome confirms Rosoan’s location among the weapons of war.

[1] “A Girolamo Trombetto per una Tromba per il Morino che impara a sonare cinque scudi.” I-Fas Camera del Granduca, f.14, 54r.

[2] “Al moro che sona la Tromba tre testoni per comprare un Brachiere”; “Al moro che sona la Tromba uno scudo disse SA”; “Al moro trombetto un zecchino sonò in camera di SA 1.3.-.-” I-Fas Camera del Granduca f.14, 6r, 6v, 48v.

[3] “Al moro trombetto un zecchino disse SA.” I-Fas Camera del Granduca f.15, 6v.

[4] “A Bracone, Tromba e Moro che tutti tre cantorno in concerto 1.3.10.-” I-Fas Camera del Granduca f.15, 51v.

[5] Rosoan and Solefar are on salary in I-Fas Camera del Granduca, f.17, 18, 19, 20, and 21.

[6] See I-Fas Camera del Granduca, f.21, 21r; these accounts cover the year 1639-40.

[7] I-Fas Camera del Granduca, f.17, c. 14v.